


A Dog's Understanding of Blood and Tears

by MistyBeethoven



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Animal Death, Animals, Canonical Character Death, Cruelty, Crying, Death, Dogs, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Home Invasion, Loneliness, Men Crying, Pets, Sad, Sad Ending, Tears, Understanding, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22185520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyBeethoven/pseuds/MistyBeethoven
Summary: Daisy learns, through her brief time with John Wick, the painful truth about blood and tears.
Relationships: Daisy & Iosef Tarasov, Daisy & John Wick, Helen Wick/John Wick, Iosef Tarasov & John Wick
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	A Dog's Understanding of Blood and Tears

**Author's Note:**

> The seed of this started out as a "Game of Thrones" story. It was going to be from Drogon's POV and revolved around his trying to understand Daenerys' grief over Jorah's death. There was one little problem with that, however:
> 
> I have never seen a single GOT episode in my life. Only clips. Could I do that story justice with that daunting impediment hovering over me? I didn't think so.
> 
> Last night the same seed came again. Only this time it was in regards to "John Wick." I realized that this universe, at least, I knew and understood somewhat well. 
> 
> I had been itching to write a story from Daisy's POV. It was interesting trying to write from a canine perspective. I only hope that I did it well.

Daisy rested inside of her carrier, her eyes returning to the strange beast before her, shyly captivated by the fact that it was doing something that she had never before witnessed in her short life and could not completely understand.

At the start, after she had first been born, differences had been all which she had taken notice of. Scents had come first; the scent of her mother, the scents of her brothers and sisters. And then, of course, the scent of the milk inside of her mother, waiting to come out in answer to the pain felt deep inside her small and empty stomach.

Taste had been second: the taste of that same liquid, warm and soft on both her tongue and the walls of her mouth which anxiously suckled in an attempt to draw out more and more from the teat, which was becoming raw in response to her enthusiastic vigor.

Her hearing came third, as if sounds were too loud and cumbersome for her small ears to process.

Daisy, whom then had not been Daisy at all, had not been able to see at that time and had relied on only what her nose, tongue and ears had so kindly told her.

When her eyes began to open, letting in a blur of light which gradually turned into shapes which moved and startled her at first, the differences had become more obvious and overwhelming. She saw for the first time her mother and siblings, and hurriedly tried to examine the differences, noting how the scents once again confessed these to her with far more ease than her newly opened eyes would.

In telling the differences between the strange and lumbering forms that lived outside of the pen but which often came to visit, creatures which intrigued and intimidated the tiny puppy, her eyes proved far more successful. These things varied in color and in height. Their fur was grown in unique patterns on their heads and sometimes on their faces; the colors not all similar as her brothers and sisters were. Even the voices of these creatures were wonderfully different, each from the next, and she would sit and listen to the beasts as they spoke with each other and occassionally at her family and at her. Though she did not understand what they were trying to tell her, the puppy enjoyed the strings of different sounds which came out of these beasts mouths.

The curious canine considered these creatures to be animals and decided that they were just other dogs, albeit of a much larger and less attractive breeds.

Set free from her pen on the rare occasion, the little dog would run around the house and discover with equal joy the surroundings which were alien and wonderfully new. She skidded and bounded on floors made of wood or carpet, enjoying what change each new room would offer to her.

One day a difference had come which had not pleased the joyful Beagle quite so much.

Slowly, one by one her brothers and sisters disappeared. Often she would awake or return to her pen and find it not so full, only to find out after some investigating with her wet, black nose and brown, baleful eyes that someone had gone missing.

Although she would wait patiently for them they never would return.

By the time there was only her mother and herself, the dog was a more than a little grateful when one of the larger beasts came and took her away as well. The pen would seem too empty without her mother and the possibility that she would be alone inside of it had made the Beagle pray to be the one taken next. Truth be told, she had already stopped receiving the milk which had once been offered to her and considered herself to be quite grown up at this stage.

A tall creature had taken her and examined her. It possessed a deep voice and proceeded to place something around her neck. Now successfully wearing the item, the puppy was not crazy about this particular difference either, preferring the air on her fur to strange accoutrements but did not complain. Having witnessed one of her brothers get shamefully scolded once for wailing when his favored sister had disappeared, the puppy decided that it was best to keep quiet and not warrent a beast's anger.

Eventually placed inside of some extremely small pen of some kind, the dog rested inside of what she was claustrophobically afraid of would be her new home. When she was brought to a large door and handed to another beast entirely the puppy thought to herself how nice it would be if this stranger had the decency to open the door to her new pen and set her free. She desperately hoped to be allowed to leave the small box in which she had been placed and once more use her restless legs. There was hardly enough room to even wag her tail inside the tiny pen, after all.

The beast placed her and her compact dwelling on to a table and then sat across from them. Shyly the Beagle studied the creature. It had longish, dark fur on the top of its head and some more at the bottom of it too. In between these areas of darkness were eyes brown like her own. The beast wore a body of black and its movement while smooth seemed heavy somehow as if some great weight was constricting it. This same weight the beast seemed to carry on its face, as well, for it seemed to be pulled down with something not seen. 

The puppy watched as the beast grabbed some rectangular object from off of the horribly cramped pen and held it to its face. 

This was when the creature began to interest her by doing that which she had never seen before. Although its face was at times covered by the object it was holding, she could tell the change which was seizing the beast. The thing before her, with its silent air of strength, began to become weak, making painful sounds it tried in vain to stifle. These sounds were close to the cries of her brother when he had lost his beloved sibling. There was more to it though. Something was appearing out of this beast's eyes. It was the same liquid that they had started to feed her when her mother's teat was no longer offered. Shyly, the puppy had kept stealing glances at the weeping creature before it, trying to understand what was happening to it and why water was falling from its deep brown eyes.

Such was the little Beagle's curiosity that when the beast opened its prison and grabbed her she did not attempt to finally run about freely though she had so desperately wanted to. Instead she let the creature study the annoying item which had been placed about her neck.

" _Daisy. Of course_."

The words meant nothing to her really. Although she had heard that first one said quite a few times now, usually spoken in her direction. What mattered was the creature's face so close to her own. She sniffed it, tried to get close to the liquid that was still on its cheeks, but the beast backed away before she could, leaving Daisy's curiousity unsatisfied.

* * *

The bed was too big for the creature. Even if it was a large and hulking thing, Daisy looked at the beast and then back at the bed and knew that something did not feel right. Lying on the floor on her own makeshift bed, the puppy looked at the beast in the bed now and felt the bed was somehow _empty_. It was as if something else was supposed to be lying next to the poor creature that Daisy with her warm, beating heart had decided to claim as her own. The beast seemed to know this too. It tossed and turned in the bed all throughout the night but kept to its side as if afraid of hurting some unseen thing lying next to it. Sometimes it made a sound in the darkness

" _Helen_ ,"

but what it meant the puppy did not know. 

When the room gradually brightened in degrees, and as a familiar pressure built in her body, Daisy jumped on the bed, trying to get the creature to awaken and let it outside. Seeing the furry face, she went to it in an attempt to see if the strange liquid had appeared once more. The desire to taste the substance was the little dog's latest obsession, although, once again its question was left unanswered. The water was gone and the beast awoke.

Grateful to have the opportunity to rush outside to finally relieve the annoying pressure, followed by an unusual meal to appease her hungry stomach , Daisy soon returned to following her companion around, waiting to see if he would fall back to the strange fit that had claimed him the night before.

Back in the large pen surrounded by her family, Daisy had not been lonely. Neither had the beasts there seemed lonely. Those beasts had always had company. There had been small beasts also with their sounds which were often cheerful if a bit too noisy. Daisy noted with regret that there was nobody for her own creature. The house was very much like the bed: too large and too empty. Her beast needed some other beast yet still it seemed to avoid the company of other similar creatures.

When a short beast peered into the window of her beast's strange moving pen at her, her beast rejected his company as well; Daisy could not blame him. The stranger's voice was as smooth as her mother's milk had been yet the puppy found herself not liking it. When her own beast had driven away, Daisy had been quite proud of it. No company was preferable to one that made you feel bad.

* * *

When they returned to the enormous pen, Daisy had happily burst inside of it. Her beast followed behind but the puppy soon lost track of it. Aware of this fact finally, she needed to find the poor lost creature as her own mother had often needed to find one of her siblings or even Daisy herself sometimes. When she finally did find it, relying on her nose and ears more than her eyes, the Beagle had found it back in the room where she had first seen it. In his hands, the beast held another item. From her distance on the living room floor, Daisy saw her beast was looking at itself. In a small flat box there was a picture of this dark-furred creature except it was not alone in that small world it held in its hands. By her beast's side was another beast. This creature's fur was lighter and longer. This was what was missing, Daisy understood. It was what was making her own beast so sad and lonely. Even though the creature was crying again, those strange drops like water falling down the furless skin on its cheeks, Daisy abandoned her interest in that spattering of liquid. It could wait; she had a mission now to attend to first.

Perhaps the missing beast was somewhere lost in the house as her siblings sometimes would be. If she could simply find it then her poor miserable creature would not be sad or lonely. Rushing around the house, Daisy searched room after room looking for the brown long-furred creature that had been misplaced. As all of her senses gradually informed her that each room was empty, Daisy soon came to the sad conclusion that the beast must have been taken someplace else never to return.

Just like her own brothers and sisters had all disappeared.

Just as she had done.

* * *

That night her beast had come to its senses and found the bed too large and empty. It had invited her into the bed with it and Daisy had gladly accepted, jumping on her creature's stomach, joyfully. Holding her as if it could find solace in the act, the beast studied her face.

A while afterwards, the puppy watched as the creature once again gave in to those small sounds that reminded her of her grieving brother. This time the beast let them claim him fully, a frightening sound which made the stomach she was standing on shake. Seeing her opportunity, though, and wanting to calm her poor beast down, Daisy walked towards its face, her tongue tasting for the first and last time her creature's drops of rain.

They tasted of salt and sorrow and the young dog tried to lick them away so her beast would no longer be so unhappy. However, he quickly replaced the ones that she had taken with new ones, making her efforts wasted.

Then Daisy understood the purpose of those bits of water: they were meant to replace what the beast had lost.

And there would never be enough to ever do that. 

* * *

The creature now sleeping, Daisy heard something in the house. Thinking it may be that other lost beast, the puppy tried to wake her companion. Succeeding they went to discover the source of the sounds.

Daisy knew before her beast whom the intruders were. She could tell from the scent of them, a gift from her childhood which still remained strong. In helplessness, she watched as this group of black-clad monsters attacked her beloved beast. Now she could not contain her whimpers and cries, not wanting to lose this creature as she had lost her brothers and sisters slowly one by one. When her cries won the men's anger, Daisy tried to run but she was not fast enough. Painfully she felt another new sensation of pressure, one which caused one final piercing cry to escape from her by the cruel force from which it had been delivered.

The puppy lay on the floor, feeling something hot and wet leaking from out of her body even as the intruders left. This was not the milk of her mother, though; this was something else, strong and pungent with a bit of that other taste which it had licked from its own beast's eyes.

Its beast...

Remembering it now past her agony, Daisy dragged herself towards the poor thing, hoping that perhaps it could fix this pain she was feeling; like it had done with the pressure earlier in the day when it had let her out or the ache in her stomach when she had been hungry and the creature had fed her. She crawled to her beast and lay by its side. The beast looked so much like her mother had when it had been so very young that it brought the puppy some comfort past her suffering. Seeing red drops of water on her beast's face, Daisy tasted these and then the matching drops on her own matted fur. 

Thinking to herself, with one last glow of happiness, that she had been right after all, that beasts _must_ be dogs for their blood tasted the same, the little puppy took one last breath and died.


End file.
